Had I the heavens’ enripened fruits,
Abloom with their epicuticular wax,
Cherry and sloe and chickasaw fruits,
Blue damson, greengage, mirabelle snacks,
I would make for you plum jam so sweet:
But I, being peckish, ate yours while alone
I have eaten the plums you kept out of the heat
Tread softly because there may be a stone.